DUBLIN'S Deliverance:
OR, The Surrender of DROGHEDA.
Shewing, King William's Conquest over his Catholick Enemies in his Warlike
Progress in IRELAND.
To the Tune of, Lilli burlero. Licensed according to Order.
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PRotestant Boys, good Tydings I bring,
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the which may blast our sorrowfull fears;
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For our most Gracious Soveraign King,
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Ireland now before him he clears.
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None is able to withstand him,
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while he do's march the Irish Shore;
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Wheree'er he do's meet 'em, with Shot he do's treat 'em,
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the Rebels was ne'er so pepper'd before.
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Our Troops did then in Armour appear,
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being right valiant Protestant Boys;
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When the proud foe did seem to draw near,
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who was so swift as Tory Dear-Joys.
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O'er the Boys to skip and scamper,
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fearing they should be laid in their Gore,
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In heat of the Battel, the Guns they did rattle,
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the Rebells was ne'er so pepper'd before.
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Some of the French Troops seemed to stand,
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with an intent our Men to degrade;
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But our King with drawn Sword in his hand,
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among them there strange havock he made:
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So that they were forc'd to scowre,
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and in their Lingua bitterly swore,
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With horrour dey fill us, both shoot, cut and kill us,
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begar we was ne'er so pepper'd before.
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We neither French nor Tories did fear,
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for we up to their Faces did ride,
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Charging them from the Front to the Rear,
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vowing to cut down Catholick Pride.
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Pistols, Carbines, horse-men fire,
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likewise our loud-mouth'd Cannons did roar;
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The French they did lowre, and Tories did scowre,
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for Faith they were never so pepper'd before.
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Drums they did beat, and Trumpets did sound,.
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while our great King the Rebells pursu'd;
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From Hill to Hill, full seven miles round,
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being with warlike Courage indu'd:
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French and Tories both did scowr,
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while our Guns like Thunder did roar;
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We blasted the Glory of Mounsieur and Tory,
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the Rogues were ne'er so pepper'd before.
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The Inniskilling horse-men, and Danes,
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seized Tyrconnel's Jewels and Plate,
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And still will take industrious pains
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to secure his Lordship's Estate:
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For their warlike satisfaction,
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being resolved ne'er to give oe'er,
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Till blasting the Glory of both French and Tory,
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the Rogues they were never so routed before.
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Now when the Battel was at an end,
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gracious K. William thus did proceed,
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To Drogheda then he streightways did send,
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willing them to surrender with speed,
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To his Army at Discretion,
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[or] else his loud-mouth'd Cannons should roar;
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They strait did Surrender to our Faith's Defender,
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no King ever conquer'd like him before.
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Dublin City yielded also,
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to our great King of Fame and Renown;
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Where he in Royal Person did go,
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no French being left to give him a Frown.
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Protestants he soon released,
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which did their former Comforts restore:
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A heavenly Blessing he still is possessing,
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no King ever Conquer'd like him before.
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